


in which castiel novak takes pity upon dean smith

by jhoom



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (more like disgruntled coworker to lover), Accountant Castiel (Supernatural), Alternate Universe - Office, Drunk Sex, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:48:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26049802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jhoom/pseuds/jhoom
Summary: Cas can't stand Dean Smith, the annoying guy from sales who can't stay organized to save his life. It's too bad he's the accountant assigned to his department, otherwise he wouldn't be Cas' problem at all.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 27
Kudos: 286





	in which castiel novak takes pity upon dean smith

**Author's Note:**

> whelp this prompt fill ended up a little longer than i'd expected lol so i figured "why not post it to ao3 as a treat for ppl who actually subscribe to me for destiel" XD i do in fact still write destiel despite my ao3 not having a lot of new stuff for them right now
> 
> as always, come visit me [@jhoomwrites](http://jhoomwrites.tumblr.com) to yell about destiel & supernatural :)

It was completely stupid how much Cas hated Dean Smith from sales. 

Dean Smith was, according to everyone else in the office, a nice guy. Funny, smart, capable. An impeccable dresser. All of this might have had an impact on Cas’ opinion of him, if it weren’t for the fact that Cas was the one who had to constantly deal with Dean’s shit. 

Great at sales and meetings and all the people-related aspects of his job, Dean Smith was god awful at the actual business/numbers side of things. His paperwork was a mess, and as the accountant assigned to Dean’s cases, Cas spent most of his time trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. He worked with five other sales associates, and working with Dean took up more time than the other five did combined. 

So yeah, he hated Dean Smith. Just a little. 

Especially right now. Right now in the middle of year end closing when Dean came to Cas’ office in a panic because he’d fucked up… something. He didn’t know what, but he’d fucked up something with this one account, it wasn’t adding up right, he couldn’t lose this client— 

“Shut up and sit down,” Cas snapped, a little more aggressively than he meant to. He saw Dean winced, which only made  _ him _ wince at his own tone, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. One breath, two, and he’d calmed down enough to handle this like a professional. “Sit down. Please.” 

Dean did. He looked like a kicked puppy. Given the state of the files he’d handed to Cas when he walked in, Cas wasn't sure he could reasonably take all the credit for Dean’s current dejection. 

“Walk me through what I  _ should _ be seeing in these files and we’ll figure it out.” 

Dean perked up. “Really? You’ll help?” 

Cas gave him a withering glare. “If you fuck this up, I get fucked over, too. I’ll help because it’s in my best interest to do so. And in the future, you will come to me well before it gets anywhere close to  _ this _ .” He held up one of the folders, crumpled papers making it impossible to close properly and sticky notes peeking out the edges. 

“Yes, okay.” Dean nodded eagerly and smiled. Cas frowned a little, because he wasn’t sure he’d ever been on the receiving end of one of the patented Dean Smith smiles that the secretaries went on and on about. “Thanks, Cas.” 

Cas, not completely mollified (but also not quite as angry as he was when Dean had first stepped into his office), simply nodded. 

It took the better part of the day to clear up the mess. Aside from being terribly disorganized, it turned out the real issue was Dean had forgotten to print out an invoice, making the numbers not add up and the whole situation appear a lot worse than it really was. Still, it wasn’t until seven that they were able to finally call it a day. 

“That’s it, we did it?” Dean asked. He looked two parts relieved, one part exhausted. Cas could relate.

“I’m not sure if I can say  _ we _ did it as opposed to  _ I _ saved your ass,” Cas said, “but it’s done.” 

“Thank fuck.” He let out a nervous laugh and collapsed against the back of his chair. “Sorry. And thanks. You’re the best.” 

Cas wasn’t sure that Dean had ever taken the time to thank him before. He was equally unsure how to handle the praise. 

“You’re welcome,” he said, fully aware that his tone was strained and his voice was a half-octave lower than usual. 

“Hey, sorry to make you stay so late. Wanna go get dinner? I know a place nearby.” 

Cas flushed, then cursed himself for doing so. He  _ hated _ Dean (or at the very least, intensely disliked the way he constantly undermined Cas’ professional life). What would they even  _ talk _ about during dinner? He knew nothing about Dean Smith except what he needed to know for work, and he certainly didn’t want to talk about  _ sales _ and  _ accounting _ once he left the office. 

He hesitated. “Uh…” 

“Drinks, at least?” Dean offered. He looked so earnest, so determined to make things up to Cas. “C’mon, I owe you big time. Lemme do  _ something _ .” 

Against his better judgement, Cas nodded. “Okay,” he said, then quickly added, “ _ one _ drink. That’s it. I have to get home.” 

“Sure, one drink.” Dean grinned in approval, and Cas was immediately annoyed that he’d let Dean win so easily. Again. Just like every time Dean asked him for something. 

Dean took him to a trendy bar a few blocks from the office, one that Cas had only heard about but would have never dreamed of going to. The bartenders greeted Dean by name, and again Cas was irritated to find that Dean was well-liked by everyone he met. It was unfair that someone so annoying and self-centered as Dean Smith could make friends wherever he went. 

(It also made Cas worry that maybe he was wrong about Dean altogether. That  _ he _ was the one being unfair, judging him too harshly for minor grievances that he likely did not know he was committing.)

They ended up at the far end of the bar in relative seclusion, Dean chatting away happily. He went through a number of topics—sports, music, movies—in quick succession, trying to goad Cas into giving more than one word answers. They finally settled on the gossip surrounding Dean’s boss Zachariah and one Cas’ fellow accountants Naomi. They had something of a love/hate relationship, openly yelling at each other loud enough that people left their offices to watch but also very likely having an affair with each other. 

“We shouldn’t gossip,” Cas said, then laughed at Dean’s affronted look. 

“We absolutely should. I don’t know Naomi much, but Zachariah’s a dick. I am more than happy to bad mouth him behind his back, especially since I’m 99% sure the rumors are true, anyway.” 

One drink quickly turned into two. 

“How come—” Dean hiccuped. He was apparently something of a lightweight, which Cas found strangely endearing. “How come I never see you when people from the office go out? This is the first time I’ve seen you outside of work, and I dunno if it counts ‘cuz you still look like an accountant.” 

“I  _ am _ an accountant.” 

“Yeah, but…” Dean waved his hand at Cas’ clothes, like that explained anything. 

Cas rolled his eyes. “You still look like a sales guy.” 

“What’s wrong with sales guys?” Dean frowned. “Do I not look good? This is my best tie—” 

“As I’m sure you know,” Cas interrupted, “you look good.” 

Dean smiled at that. Cas ordered another drink so he wouldn’t have to see that damn smile. 

“My apartment’s just down here,” Dean said with a bit of a whine. “You don’t have to get an Uber home, you can crash on my couch. It’s comfy, I swear.” 

“I don’t know, Dean. I woke up this morning determined to hate you for being such a pain in the ass. It’d be really inconvenient if you started doing me favors now.” He was a little too drunk to keep the words from slipping out, and he almost felt bad about them afterwards. 

Dean laughed then pulled Cas in with a hand resting snuggly over his shoulder. “You don’t hate me, do you? I’m too cute to hate.” 

“You’re awfully sure of yourself.” 

“I’m cute. Deny it, I dare you.” 

Cas muttered his breath. 

“What was that?” 

“I said yes, you’re cute. Happy?” 

Dean beamed at him. “Very. C’mon, my place is this way.” 

While he admired the view from Dean’s apartment, he didn’t protest when Dean slid another drink into his hand. It was wine, something red and floral smelling that tasted wonderful. 

“I like this,” he said. 

To his surprise, Dean took the glass right out of his hand and took a sip. “Yeah, me too.” 

He didn’t remember falling onto Dean’s couch, nor did he remember when he’d started to palm himself through his tightening slacks. It must have happened somewhere between Dean disappearing to change out of his suit and when he bent over in front of Cas to pull a sheet over the couch. It happened, though, and Cas’ eyes continued to roam over Dean. 

It took a moment for Dean to notice, too busy playing host and gathering blankets and pillows for him, but Cas knew the second he did. He froze and sucked in a breath, his eyes on Cas’ hands. 

“You know,” Dean said, voice sounding wrecked, “you should probably take off your suit. Wouldn’t want to get your clothes all wrinkled while you sleep.” 

“Good idea,” he agreed, and then suddenly it was Dean stroking himself through his boxer briefs while Cas made a spectacle of himself while he undressed down to his undershirt and boxers. He didn’t bother folding them or even laying them across a chair, just kicked out of his pants and tossed aside his shirt before reclaiming his spot on the couch.

“We should get some sleep,” Dean said. He hadn’t stopped jerking himself off through the light fabric. 

“We should,” Cas agreed. He slipped his hand beneath the waistband of his own boxers and matched his pace with Dean’s. 

“In a minute?” 

“In a minute,” Cas said. 

A minute passed, then several more with neither of them making a move to stop. If anything, Dean was speeding up, his breath hitching with every other stroke. Not one to let Dean Smith of all people beat him at anything, let alone whatever  _ this _ was, Cas sped up, too. He bit his lip to keep from moaning, determined not to give Dean the satisfaction of hearing how utterly he wrecked he was. 

Dean had no such qualms, moaning loudly as he brought himself closer to the edge. When he arched his back off the couch and started thrusting up into his hand with wanton abandon, that was what did it for Cas. He finally let himself truly let go in Dean’s presence, whimpering as he came in his boxers. 

“Fuck,” Dean growned. “Fuck that’s hot.” And then he was coming with a low whine, wetness spreading over the front of his boxer briefs. 

They sat there in the aftermath, and Cas had just enough time to wonder if this was a terrible idea. 

“You know,” Dean said breathily, “if this is what happens every time I royally fuck up and you save my ass, that doesn’t really inspire me to do my work properly the first time around.” 

Cas glared at him half-heartedly. “Should have known you’d still be a pain,” he grumbled. “And really, you should be thinking of how much  _ more _ we could do if you cleaned up your files and got things right without needing the help. You wasted  _ hours _ of my time today. There are certainly better ways we could have spent that time together.” 

“You—” Dean choked and then shook his head. “I like you, Cas. You’re way more fun when you’re not being a grumpy accountant.” 

“I think you’ve completely misunderstood what I’ve been complaining about if you think I  _ wasn’t _ being a grumpy accountant just now.” 

That earned him a laugh from Dean, who then grew very serious. “Hey, I don’t know if this is presumptuous or anything but uh… you don’t have to sleep on the couch if you don’t want to. The bed’s plenty big enough…” 

He trailed off and looked at Cas with wide eyes. Again, Cas was struck with how adorable Dean was and wondered how he’d missed it before. 

“The bed sounds wonderful, Dean.” He winced as he shifted. “You wouldn’t happen to have any spare boxers I could borrow though, do you?”

“I’m sure I can find you something,” Dean said with a wink. “C’mon, let’s change and get some sleep. How do you feel about sharing morning showers with a guy you kind of hooked up with the night before?” 

“If your shower is half as nice as the rest of your apartment, pretty good.” 

“I’m insulted you’re only interested in me for my apartment and not my hot body.” 

“It can be both.” Cas offered a smile, possibly the first he’d ever given Dean; he saw Dean melt a little at the sight of it. “Bed?” 

“Bed. For sure.” 


End file.
